The Waking Dead Coffee Shop
by poetanddidntknowit34
Summary: Carol and Sophia are looking for a "fresh start", and for them, it's going to come in the form of their very own coffee shop, The Waking Dead Coffee. But opening it down the street from the Dixon Brother's Autobody Shop may have been a bigger (and better) decision than Carol initially planned. -A Caryl Fic
1. Blueberry Scones

"This is it, Sophia." Carol said as she put the last few paper cups on the counter next to the expresso machine. "We're open for business today."

"I just wish you had taken my advice and waited for a retail space to open up in a better part of town." Sophia had worried over the neighborhood over the whole year that they were doing renovations, but her concerns would not stop her mother. Carol Peletier was going to open The Waking Dead Coffee shop on this block on this day if it killed her.

"This will be good." She smiled and pulled the little metal chord on the neon "open" sign and unlocked the door. "A fresh start."

"That's a cliché, mom." Sophia rolled her eyes.

"That's why I said it." Carol reached out and tucked a piece of blond hair behind the 18 year-old's ears and planted a kiss on the scar on her forehead, left behind after Ed had smashed a lamp over her head in one of his rages—his last to be exact. "You ready for some customers?"

"As I'll ever be." Sophia shook her hair free again and picked up the big chalkboard specials sign and waddled it out the front door to set on the sidewalk. She came back in trailed by a few friends and customers—Carol's mother and sister, Sophia's friends from the university, and a few curious people who worked on the street, and after a few minutes, they had a small line going. Café mochas, dark roast coffees, and French vanilla lattes were their first orders, and Sophia was running the machines with precision focus in no time. After an hour, the two had settled into a comfortable routine with Carol taking orders and Sophia making them. They rotated out who was bussing tables. It was going well, and Carol was relieved and excited.

"Welcome to Waking Dead Coffee!" She chimed out as another customer came in. He was a younger guy, maybe mid-30s, in a flannel shirt that was missing its sleeves and covered in motor oil.

He didn't look up from his yellow work gloves, grimy with oil and dirt, as he pulled them off and set them on the counter to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. "Two coffees, black." He looked up and scanned the pastry display next to Carol. "And one of… whatever those things are." He gestured vaguely at a pastry.

"Blueberry scone?" Carol said, still smiling, though he still wasn't looking.

"Sure." He grunted, pulling a ten out of his wallet and dropping it on the counter. "Keep the change."

"Alright." Carol got the two cups out for the black coffee. "Can I get a name for your order?"

"Daryl." As she wrote "Darrell" on the cup, he wandered away from the counter a bit, looking at the cartoon zombie moaning "coffeeeeee" on the shop's logo under the pastry display. He snorted; from amusement or incredulity, Carol couldn't tell.

Sophia was filling the cups with coffee as Carol pulled a blueberry scone from the pastry display and placed it in a paper to-go bag. Daryl continued to wander around and look at the displays, until she called out his name and he went back up to the counter to get his order. "Do you need a cup-carrier?" Carol asked, holding up a cardboard carrier.

"Uh—" _BANG BANG BANG_. A loud knocking on the window at the front of the shop caused several customers to jump. Carol looked out and saw a burly guy, equally covered in oil and dirt, looking in the window with a look on his face that said "what's taking so long?" Daryl just grabbed both cups and the pastry bag and muttered, "No, I got it. Thanks."

"Have a good day." Carol said.

"Uh, yeah, you, too." Daryl returned as he balanced his purchase and made his way outside.

Before the door shut, Carol could hear the other man say, "What, did you get yourself a croissant, Darlena?" And then he took the pastry bag and tossed it in the trash as they walked away from the store.

"He was cute." Sophia said, and Carol jumped a little. She hadn't known Sophia was standing there.

"Please, Sophia, he's almost twice your age."

"I meant for you, mom. Nice and rugged, you know?"

Carol rolled her eyes. "I'll tell you the same thing I said last week when you thought I'd pair well with the cashier at Wal*Mart: we're not having this conversation right now. It's too soon."

Sophia shrugged. "Whatever. I was just making conversation."


	2. The Quiet One

Opening week went better than Carol could've hoped; they'd been busy from open until closing and had made a significant profit margin each day, and these great days at the shop were the spring in Carol's step Saturday morning as she went to unlock the store for another day of work. Sophia had dance until two o'clock, so until then, it would just be her and Maggie Greene.

"Morning, Maggie." Carol smiled at the fifteen year-old as she got out her father's car. "Good morning, Reverend Greene!" She waved at Hershel from her spot on the sidewalk.

"Morning, Ms. Peletier." Hershel waved back. "What time should I pick you up, Maggie?"

"I'm actually going to get a ride from Glenn. We have karate practice this afternoon, so he's going to take me up to class, and then he'll bring me home." Maggie blushed a little as she spoke.

Hershel waited a moment, and then said, "OK, well, make sure to call me if you're going to be out late."

"I will." Maggie and Carol waved as Hershel drove off again.

"You ready for another busy day?" Carol said as she turned the key in the door. "I was thinking that today we could—" She was cut off by a loud crashing sound from the Auto Body shop down the street.

"What was that?" Maggie asked.

"I'm going to make sure they're OK." Carol said. "Why don't you go in and start getting ready to open."

Carol crossed the street and walked past a few shops before she reached the mouth of the Dixon Brother's Auto Body Shop. She peeked around the corner and saw two men, whom she recognized from the opening day of the coffee shop, standing over a spilled tool box and arguing quietly, but fiercely. "If you don't knock that shit off, Daryl, I swear to god—" The bigger man, the one Carol had seen throwing away the scone before Daryl could eat it, stopped mid-threat when he saw her looking in.

"What?" He yelled at her. "Can I help you?"

"Merle Alexander Dixon!" A woman with a big sunglasses and a bright sundress scolded him as she stepped out of the garage office, snapping the door shut behind her. "You are being exceedingly rude." She clucked her tongue at him as she moved past the two to stand near Carol. "She could be a customer, and now I wouldn't blame her if she didn't want to do business with you."

Carol stepped out to stand fully in view. "Oh, I'm not a customer. I'm the owner of the coffee shop on the other side of the street." She pointed at the Waking Dead shop sign. "I had heard a loud crash, and I just thought I'd make sure everyone is OK."

"See, Merle? Just a concerned citizen. And are you two going to fix my car, or just squabble all day?" Merle rolled his eyes and popped the hood on the car that was sitting in the garage, while Daryl bent down to clean up the dumped over tool box. The woman smiled warmly at her, and her lush, Southern drawl reminded Carol of home. "I'm LeeAnne Dixon, and those are my boys." LeeAnne extended her hand in greeting, and as the sleeve of her dress moved up her forearm, Carol noticed a shiny purple bruise ringed around the woman's wrist and arm. But Carol didn't say anything. She had worn enough turtleneck sweaters in July to know not to ask.

"Carol Peletier." She shook the woman's hand.

"Well, when does your shop open, Carol? I'll need some coffee and a place to sit while my car is being fixed. Also, do you serve lunch?" She glanced over at the brothers as they worked on the car. "I'm going to buy you both lunch, you look too thin. You need to eat more."

"I think Merle eats enough." Daryl muttered, which earned him a violent snap to his face with a grease rag.

"You wanna repeat that?" The two boys narrowed their eyes at each other.

"Yeah," Daryl dropped the wrench, which clattered and clanked on the cement floor, "You're fat."

Merle lunged at his brother, who ducked and side-stepped the attack and managed to get behind Merle to twist his arm behind his back.

"Honestly," LeeAnne said, loud enough for the two men to hear, "They're in their 30s and 40s, and they still fight like they're twelve. I have no idea why they decided to work together."

Daryl released Merle, who pushed Daryl's head roughly to end the fight, and picked his wrench back up. "Name's Carol, that's what you said?" He came over to stand in front of her.

"Yeah, that's right."

"That coffee was good last week." He watched his hands as he wrung them roughly with a grease rag.

"Thank you." Carol smiled. "Daryl, right?"

"Yeah, it's Daryl."

"But you spelled it wrong on the cup." Merle's voice rang out from under the hood of the car.

Carol looked puzzled. "S'not a big deal." Daryl waved dismissively in Merle's direction. "I spell it D-A-R-Y-L. You spelled it D-A-R-R-E-L-L or sumthin like that on the coffee cup."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I—"

"S'not a big deal. You couldnta known." He shrugged. "Merle's just lookin to fight everybody today."

Carol's watch beeped aggressively, and she gaped at its face when she glanced at the time. "I have to go, it's time to open the shop, and I left my employee to get ready by herself."

"I'll walk with you." LeeAnne said. "One of you come get me when the car's done."

"It'll be done at noon, Ma." Merle said.

"One of you come get me when the car's done." She looked pointedly at Daryl.

He raised his hands defensively. "I'll come getcha when the car's done." He turned and walked over to the car in question.

LeeAnne and Carol had started to cross the street together when Carol said, "They seem nice."

"You mean Daryl seems nice." LeeAnne laughed. "I love my sons, but Merle can be real mean when he wants to be. Daryl's mean sometimes, too, but just to his brother. He's my quiet one. Merle's a lot like his father..." She trailed off then and they walked in silence.

When they got to the shop, Maggie was just moving the specials board out to the sidewalk. "Hey, Maggie, I'm sorry it took so long."

"No problem." She set up the board and brushed off her apron. "What was the crash?"

"I think it was a toolbox falling, but everyone is fine." The three girls went into the store, Carol pulling the string on the "Open" sign as she walked past. "Ready for the day?"

"I think we're all set, yeah." Maggie said, taking her place behind the expresso machine.

"Perfect. What can I get for you LeeAnne?"

* * *

Right around noon, the bell above the door chimed and Daryl came into the shop and walked over to LeeAnne's table where she was reading a book through her sunglasses. "Car's fixed, Ma." He pulled his gloves off and sat down, lowering his voice. "Are you sure you don't want me to come and spend a week or two at home?" He reached up to try to take the sunglasses off of her face.

LeeAnne swatted his hand away. "I'm fine, Daryl. You know how your father is. I shouldn't have even mentioned the car, just brought it in to you right away."

"You could come stay with Merle and me?"

"Daryl." LeeAnne gave him a warning look. "I am fine. Leave it be."

Daryl sighed, giving up. "Well, car's fixed. I'm gettin a coffee, then I'll walk you back." He stood and walked to the counter. "Hi." He smiled a bit. "One black coffee, please."

"Not two?" Carol smiled back, pulling a cup off the stack next to the register and writing "DARYL" before handing it to Maggie.

"Nah. Merle can get his own damn coffee." He pulled out a five dollar bill, exchanging the paper for the coffee. "Thanks."

"Have a good day." Carol said, to which Daryl tipped his cup in a 'cheers' motion before he collected his mother and left.


End file.
